They enter the tomb and see a
young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side.

Note: he is not hovering
around with a glistening halo on his head.

The text is very precise,
almost prosaic.

The man is sitting on the
right hand side of the tomb.

All who have studied the New
Testament documents have observed that they
tell it as it is.

They don’t add hype or gloss
over apparent oddities in events. They don’t try and harmonize what sometimes
seem like conflicting resurrection accounts.

So the women, hearts racing,
pulses increasing, brains whirring, see this young man…who then speaks to them.

‘Do not be alarmed.’

It’s good to know angels can
read human body language.

‘Do not be alarmed.’

Are we intimidated today
about the alarming stories of religious decline in the UK?

Do not be alarmed.

Are we worried that new ways
are eroding the traditional ways of worshipping?

Do not be alarmed.

Are we concerned that old
ways are stifling the new so that we cannot grow?

Do not be alarmed.

Beyond all our worries and
non comprehension is another reality where God’s purposes are being worked out,
right here amongst us here in this place, with the help of angels and
archangels and with all the company of heaven.

Do not be alarmed.

All will be well.

So the angel understands
exactly the predicament of the women.

‘You are looking for Jesus of
Nazareth, who was crucified.’

True – he was dead – we saw
it with our own eyes…

Saw the spear which brought a
sudden rush of blood and water.

Saw the stiff body being taken
down and buried.

Mary even touched him, and so
did Joseph of Arimathea.

So it doesn’t make sense,
what the angel says next:

‘He has been raised; he is
not here. Look, there is the place they laid him’ (verse 6).

It’s like a crime scene from
Agatha Christie: the area cordoned off with tape: the body was just there…

…except that it’s not there
now….

It’s as if the clock has been
slowed right down, like an Olympic sprint photo finish.

Here are the frames, in
fractions of a second:

The garden; the tomb; no stone;
an angel; no body; the angel speaking:

‘Go, tell his disciples and
Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as
he told you.’

It’s all too much; apparently
the angel is giving instructions…

But the women are far too overwhelmed
to take any notice at all.

Now, if you wanted to write a
triumphal ending to your gospel, I don’t think you would have ended as Mark does,
in verse 8: ‘So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement
had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid’ (verse
8).

That’s it!

That’s the end of Mark’s
gospel.

If you were filming an
adaptation for the big screen, you would have a few problems at this point.

Instead of rousing music and
smiling faces – everything has turned out alright after all – you have
terrified women running out of the garden, saying nothing to anyone because
they are afraid.

And then the credits roll.

What kind of evangelists are
they?!

In fact, as some of you will
know, there are alternative endings in Mark, as though this original one is
just embarrassing.

But I find this one very
compelling.

These poor women, as a direct
result of their devotion to Jesus, have been lead completely outside their comfort
zone into the terrifyingly unfamiliar.

Isn’t this a sure sign of a
genuine encounter with God?

So from the women, to us.

When did the Christian story
last sound strangely, bracingly unfamiliar
to you?

We have the familiarity of
2000 years of Christianity through which to filter our response to the risen
Jesus.

This makes it quite hard to
meet him afresh.

Perhaps the story isn’t as
sharp as it used to be.

Perhaps it’s a bit too
familiar.

We tend to like the familiar.

A much loved chair or bible,
or a pair of slippers.

The familiar is comforting and
stays within boundaries.

You know what’s coming with
the familiar.

But, just in case it’s true
that familiarity breeds contempt, we must pray, each of us, for a new meeting
with the risen Lord.

We must never think that
resurrection is familiar.

How can it be?

It is always awesome and
strange and the means by which we are transformed to serve Christ in the world.

Jesus’ death and resurrection
transforms us at an individual level but also corporately.

In a few moments we will meet
the risen Lord together around the Communion table, in broken bread and wine
outpoured.

We will cement our ties as
brothers and sisters in the Christian family whose Saviour died and rose again
that we may be one.

As we do so, let us pray for
the grace this Easter time, to let the familiar become unfamiliar.